I’m beautiful in an unconventional MILF-ish sort of way, I mean my beauty leans away from the aesthetic. Being brown and dreadlocked in the land of silicon and honey is a challenge. My locs could grow and weave themselves into a net and I still wouldn’t catch much in the way of a date, except the occasional black militant left over from the early 90’s or white dudes, musicians mostly or old hippies who say idiotic things like, “If we made love maybe I’d hear the African drums play.”
I’ve lived in Southern California all of my life and I’ve felt the pressure to look like everyone else since grade school. I spent hours in the gym during early 20’s and thousands of dollars on personal trainers, diets, and manipulating my hair. It wasn’t until I was in my mid-thirties that I finally reached a point where I was a peace with my body and my hair. I’m hoping to spare my daughter the agony or should I?
When I look back from this vantage point, those machinations with my hair, my body and my attire were like a grown-up game of dress up. I noticed how people reacted to me in regards to the clothing I wore or how I styled my hair. I also learned that I wanted what showed on the outside to reflect what I valued most, what was practical for the life I wanted to lead.
So, no longer do I struggle with what I eat, everything in moderation. Or how much I exercise, enough to stay healthy. Or what I wear, what’s practical for me. I just hope my daughter is watching… and taking notes. Beauty is practical. Don’t you think?
– Aunt B